Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Qatar and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Vogues to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Faust. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drexciya,
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
Lalann,
The Standells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Funky Four + One,
Fad Gadget,
Popol Vuh,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Theoretical Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Oneida,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Selecter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ponytail,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Siglo XX,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Suicide,
the Germs,
E-Dancer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
Basic Channel,
Alice Coltrane,
Ten City,
Glenn Branca,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.